


flew off along the way from a tired love

by hisfreckleswerestars



Series: Season 12 Codas [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Dean, Canon Compliant, Castiel (Supernatural) is Loved, Coda, Dean sleeps with women to forget about Cas, Episode: s12e18 The Memory Remains, Hand Jobs, Hickies, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Alternating, Playful Sex, Top Castiel, it doesn't work, not in that order, semi-rough sex, the case is kind of sidelined
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-07 06:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10353738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hisfreckleswerestars/pseuds/hisfreckleswerestars
Summary: Dean’s already been betrayed enough that he isn’t surprised when he hears that Cas is working with the angels again. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.“D-Dean,” Cas gasped out, looking utterly debauched, his dark hair in disarray, pink lips plush, and blue eyes bright. Dean probably looked worse, considering how harshly Cas had been biting at his lips.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings(s): Spoilers for 12x18 and before, semi-rough sex w/ top!Cas and bottom!Dean
> 
> What even was that episode? Dean being an outrageous flirt and eating greasy food, Sam doing a ton of research. They both felt like flat, carbon copies of themselves from season 1. Also, the plot itself was pretty terrible. The family dresses in a goat-man costume to kill people, and sacrifices that person to a God in their basement, to improve their business... what? And female characters/POC were practically nonexistent, with little to no speaking time. Though, Sam and Dean carving their initials into the table like they did in the Impala made me emotional, so I'll give it that.
> 
> Title from [The Dove](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bMJUpgqfIU8) by Cabinet. The song's good shit, so go listen to it.

Dean couldn’t stop himself from falling back into the same unhealthy habits. Booze, greasy food, women, the whole nine. It was an endless cycle he couldn’t break away from.

Part of the issue was Sam. His brother wasn’t purposefully trying to enforce masculinity or gender roles, but he did unknowingly not allow Dean to change. When Dean admitted to liking Taylor Swift, or spent time in the women’s garments section looking at pink panties, Sam would have this odd little look on his face. Sam always laughed it off, asked, “who are you and what have you done with my brother?” but it still hurt more than Dean could put into words.

So, Dean tried his best to not challenge Sam’s view of him. When Dean wanted to sing along to a pop song on the radio, he changed the channel. When he wanted to flirt with a cute man at a bar, he sent a wink to the girl next to the man. And when Cas said “I love you” to Dean, as he was dying, Dean only looked away, despite how much he wanted to say he felt the same.

Sometimes Dean’s mind strayed without his allowance. The worst case was when Cas would step a little too close, and Dean’s eyes would traitorously look at the angel’s lips. That happened a lot, though, thankfully, none of them had a full-fledged conversation about it. And, when Cas had been gone for a while, when his absence could be felt with every drum of Dean’s heart, Dean only felt his _want_ grow stronger.

Dean tried to call Cas a lot of times that day. He lost count somewhere around fifty. Whenever he brought it up, Sam always brushed it off, said an angel probably didn’t need help. He pulled out the Colt and worryingly cleaned and reloaded the gun, trying to shift his thoughts to other things. It didn't work.

They were in a restaurant, and Sam was talking about the case, unloading information about some goat-man creature. Dean was only half-listening, too involved in his own thoughts. _Why hasn't Cas returned any of my close-to-100 calls._ Dean shook that thought away. _No, I'm not allowed to think of that, think of him_. Instead, Dean turned his attention to attractive waitress at their restaurant. She had a nice ass, even if she was more than ten years younger than him. Also a blonde, with brown eyes; as far from dark hair and blue eyes she could possibly be. How _respectable_.

He went up to her, said his signature "hot coffee" line, and was reworded with her name and number. It's what was expected of him, what _Sam_ expected of him. Surprisingly, the girl's name was Carmen, the same name of the girl from Dean's djinn world. That had been back before he'd meant Cas, and had all these confusing emotions, back when he'd been happy to fuck a girl, no strings attached.

###### 

When Mary came back from her hunt with Mr. Ketch, she was different. It was just a subtle difference, but it was there all the same. She was less on edge during hunts, loosened and relaxed when they were taking a break.

It was turning their next hunt with the Men of Letters that Dean finally put it together.

Mr. Ketch had joined the crew for the hunt. He and Mary kept sending each other glances, practically undressing each other with their eyes.

After the hunt, when the skeletons were burning their their graves, Dean pulled Mary over to the side. “Did you sleep with Ketch?” He asked, voice accusatory.

She looked surprised, but quickly replaced that look with one of defense. “What if I did?”

“Then you shouldn't have,” Dean said angrily. He jabbed a quick thumb over at Mr. Ketch, who was standing over the recently made fire, “He’s a sociopath, who’s killed innocents with no remorse. Not exactly boyfriend material.”

“I realize that,” Mary said, exasperated. “And I’m not trying to date the guy. It was just a simple hook-up. Just sex.”

And, wow, Dean had thought Sam sleeping with Ruby was bad. “But, still, he’s a _bad guy_.”

“Again, I realize that. I’m not trying to make excuses for his actions. I’m just saying that I was able not think about that for a few hours, without becoming emotionally attached.”

“ _Hours_?”

“Yes. We went a few rounds,” Mary responded. Dean _did not_ want to be having this conversation with _his mother_. "And, this is _my life_ , and I’m allowed to sleep with whomever.” With that, she spun around and stomped back to the grave desecration.

###### 

Dean and Sam went on a hunt that the British Men of Letters had assigned to them. He'll admit, it was nice to not have to wait around for a case to show up. Instead, the BMoL just handed them a stack of papers with locations. It shockingly easy to wipe out the pack of werewolves; they had Mary and the BMoL technology on their side. Dean tried to ignore Mary the best he could, and shot any effort she made to try to talk to him. If he ignored it, maybe the problem would go away. They headed back to the bunker, classic rock music and smiles on. But it still felt like something - _someone_ \- was missing. There was an angel-shaped hole in his heart. Sam tried to reassure him, telling him that Cas would call if he was in trouble, but Dean still missed him.

The waiting around became too much. Dean gave into temptation and pulled out his phone. Sam and Mary had long since gone to bed. Dean was hanging out in the living room watching old reruns of X-Files. Dean typed in Cas’s number, and the phone rang once, twice. He missed the good ol’ days, when Cas could just be here with a prayer. Though, he supposed there'd been the small matters of the Apocalypse and war in Heaven, at the same time.

Cas picked up on the third ring. “Hey Cas,” Dean said before the angel could say anything. “I was wondering, how you are you doing?”

“Well,” Cas replied curtly.

Dean waited for Cas to go on, but, when he didn’t, Dean broke the silence. “Uh, well, that’s good, man. D’you need us to come down and help you? The cases are kind of slow at the moment.” They actually had a possible ghost occurrence, but Dean could always send the others on that case, and go help Cas himself.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Oh, okay. Where are you at the moment, by the way?” Dean asked, curiosity seeping into his voice.

There was a long pause. It lasted long enough that Dean started to worry he'd accidentally hanged up. Finally, Cas replied, “Somewhere in northern Arkansas.”

“That’s cool,” Dean said, for lack for a better reply. “That’s awesome. I don’t think there’s many vampire nests or werewolves up that way.”

“Dean, I’m an angel,” Cas reassured him. “No creature would ‘get the jump on’ me.”

The hunter smiled. He could tell that Cas was making quotations marks with his fingers, even though the phone. “I still worry about you, s’all.”

“Once again, Dean, I’m an angel,” Cas reminded.

Dean laughed. “Yeah, you won’t let me forget it. And, at least I don’t have to worry about you working with the King of Hell or dickbag angels again.”

“Indeed,” was all Cas said, before hanging up.

Dean returned from the call feeling marginally better, but still suspecting that Cas was hiding something from him.

Sam entered the kitchen, looking from the smiling Dean to the phone in confusion. The confusion cleared from his brother’s face as Sam let out an _ahh_ of understanding. “Did you call that one waitress you got the number of?”

“No. Cas,” Dean blurted out before he was able to identify what Sam was instigating. When he realized, his cheeks flamed. “I mean, it wasn’t like that-”

Sam raised an eyebrow, before taking pity on him. “It’s alright Dean, you don’t have to explain yourself. I’m here because we have another case. It’s in Boulder, Colorado.” He handed a sheet of paper to his brother.

“At least it’s not a far drive,” Dean remarked. He took the printed article, scanning it. Several people had died in bizarre, out-of-this-world ways. One man had a literal wrecking ball dropped on him. The smile dropped from his face. “Aww man. Witches?”

“Witches,” Sam confirmed.

###### 

Sam and Dean had decided to to take the case, with Mary, thankfully, assigned to a ghost on the other side of the country. They’d been in Boulder for three days without any sign of a witch. No hex bag at the crimes scenes. No secretive old lady in the neighborhood. Just people dying in strange, unbelievable, ways.

Sam and Dean headed back to their motel, tired out from questioning a witness for their case, when Dean spotted a familiar car sitting in the parking lot. It was a pickup truck. A brown-and-tan ‘79 Ford, to be exact. He checked the back and, yep, that was the same license plate number. There was no doubt in his mind that the car was Cas’s. And, as Cas had said he was in Arkansas, and the car probably didn’t magically appear without him, Cas must’ve lied to him.

Dean butted Sam in the side with an elbow. “That’s Cas’s car,” he told his brother, pointing to the car in question.

Sam peered at the car. “I suppose it is. But didn’t Cas tell you that he was in, uh-”

“Arkansas,” Dean supplied.

“-yes, there. What’s his car doing here?”

“Let’s go find out," Dean replied, beginning to stomp down toward the car.

The truck was parked in the same motel they were staying at. They went to the front desk, where the motel manager was hanging out. He described Cas to her, "dark hair, blue eyes, a bit of scruff" and made up a sob story about how they were long-lost relatives of his. Within minutes, she told them Cas's room number, and even handed them a key.

Dean and Sam barged into Cas's room. The angel was on a bed, books open up around him, most likely doing research. He lifted his head as they enter, his eyes growing wide and mouth half-opened in surprise, looking like a kid that got caught with their hand in the candy jar. "Dean. Sam," Cas uttered in surprise. "W-What are you-"

"Thought you were in Arkansas," Dean cut in.

The angel looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

"Did you lie?" Sam asked.

Cas brought his gaze back to meet Dean's. "Y-Yes. I lied. I found a lead on Kelly Kline and Dagon."

"Then why didn't you tell us?" Dean asked passive-aggressively. When Cas didn't immediately respond, a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Wait - are you - no, surely you wouldn't... Cas, are you working with the angels again?"

"Yes," Cas said simply, unable to lie anymore.

Dean could barely look at him. Instead, he turned to his brother, tossing him the keys to their own motel room. "Sam, head back to our room. I'm going to deal with Cas here. If I'm not back in an hour, come find us."

"Okay," Sam said, taking the keys. He knew not to fight with Dean when he was in this mood.

When the door closed shut behind him, Dean reached over and locked the door. Cas looked up at him, waiting for him to speak, to scream and yell and throw a fit. Dean did none of those, instead gathering up the books on the bed and placing them on the table next to them. Then, he stood over Cas, who was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Cas,” Dean said, his voice rising, filled with emotion, “You fucking stupid, clueless, angel.”

Cas didn’t reply, instead simply staring at him, open-mouthed, flinching at each word as if they were a stab from an angel blade.

Dean backpedalled. “Look, I admit this: we treated you like shit at the start. We treated you like shit in the middle, as well. Hell, we’ve treated you like shit during almost every goddamn interaction, especially when you’ve needed our help the most.” Cas’s eyes met his in shock at the confession. “But, please man, just give us, _me_ , a chance to be better. Don’t work with those angels anymore.”

“Dean, I want you to understand _why_ I did it,” Cas said. Dean snorted, but the angel continued. “You are working with the British Men of Letters, correct?”

“That’s different,” Dean insisted. “Do you think I’m just knocking back drinks with the guys who had Sam tortured? No; they’re more our allies than friends. They’re helping us find cases and gank monsters.”

“And what do you think I was doing?” Cas shot back. “The angels are only allies as well. They were supplying me with information I couldn’t get anywhere else. They’re helping me track down Kelly Kline and clean up _my_ mess.”

“Oh, so it’s _your_ mess now, is it? Sammy and I offered to help you find her, but you wouldn’t hear any of it,” Dean said, his face twisted into a borderline sneer.

Cas was silent for a second, not able to find any words to defend himself. He finally said. “I know. I realize, now, that I should have accepted your help. I-I thought it was my responsibility.”

“Nah. If one Winchester messes up, the rest of us will try to fix it. D’you remember, way back when, when Sam started the first Apocalypse. You, Bobby, and I weren’t gonna force Sam to defeat Lucifer by himself. We’re a team, okay?”

“Okay,” Cas confirmed, giving Dean a half-smile.

Dean added, “And, Cas, I like you being around. Part of why I was so upset with you for working with the angels was because… you were going to join them, weren’t you?” He looked at the angel closely. “You going to go back to heaven after all’s said and done?”

“No,” Cas said quickly. “After I found Kelly Kline and got rid of the Nephilim, I was going to turn away from the angels forever.”

Dean looked up at him sharply. “F-Forever?” A thought suddenly occurred to him. “Wait, were you going to rip out your grace?”

“Yes. I would have kept the vessel - I’m rather fond of it - but I was going to get rid of my grace.”

Dean barked out a half-mad laugh. “Willinging join us down here in the gutter? Why would you do that?”

“Some parts of humanity are… beautiful,” Cas said with a smile, and he seemed to be talking about something more profound than a 25 cents magic fingers experience or the smell of bacon in the morning.

“Me?” Dean asked. He didn’t know what he was hoping Cas’s answer would be. Would it be hurt more to know that Cas… returned his feelings, or that he didn’t?

Castiel held Dean’s gaze. “Yes.”

He said it so simply. Oh, it’s a sunny afternoon, isn’t it? Yes. Did you dig up that research on the ghost? Yes. Do you want some coffee? Yes. Are you in love with me? _Yes_.

Dean let out a low sigh, and put his face in his hands in resignation. He felt something warm close over his wrist, and looked up. Cas’s hand was holding onto his wrist, and his blue eyes stared at Dean heartfeltly and intensely. “Are you alright, Dean?” He asked softly.

“I - I don’t know.” Dean confessed. “Why me? Wait, no, don’t answer that. I don’t want to hear a long as fuck poem about how pretty my eyes are. Just… you deserve better that _me_. Than a broken soul who can’t help falling back on alcoholism, who can’t even retain a relationship for five fucking seconds with his mom and brother, who should’ve been dead in a ditch long ago.”

“Dean.” Cas said, his voice rising in anger. “Don’t you think I should have a choice in this? Free will? And, Dean, I want you, flaws and all.”

Dean should say no. Should leave, run away from his feelings once again. But he can’t, doesn’t _want_ to. Mary had no-strings-attached sex with Mr. Ketch, a fucking sociopath. Couldn’t Dean allow himself this? And, _god_ , Dean wanted more than just sex with Cas. He wanted to hold Castiel’s hand in public, take him stargazing, let him drive the Impala, but, sex is all he’ll allow himself. He can’t taint Cas, this gorgeous, magnificent, _angel_ , anymore than that.

“Okay, Cas, we can give this a try,” Dean said, his voice small.

Cas perked up at the words, giving Dean a blinding smile. “How would you like to do this?”

Dean let out a nervous laugh, scratching at the back of his neck. “Um, I’m usually way more comfortable flirting with girls. Just… kiss me, please?”

“As you wish.” Cas moved closer, his nose brushing against Dean’s, breath ghosting on Dean’s face.

Dean opened his mouth to make a comment about _The Princess Bride_ , but was stopped by the press of Castiel’s lips against his. Cas kissed gently, as if reassuring Dean that he wasn’t going to leave anytime soon. He linked an arm around Dean’s neck, and the other settled on Dean’s hip, pulling him closer. Dean sank into his touch.

The kiss grew more passionate and heated. Cas ran his teeth over Dean’s bottom lip, and Dean open his mouth, allowing Cas’s tongue to slip inside. Cas pulled Dean onto his lap so Dean was straddling his hips. Dean felt Cas’s length press against his ass, and made slow rocking motions against his clothed cock, feeling satisfaction when Cas’s length hardened.

“D-Dean,” Cas gasped out, looking utterly debauched, his dark hair in disarray, pink lips plush, and blue eyes bright. Dean probably looked worse, considering how harshly Cas had been biting at his lips.

“You like that, Cas?” Dean goaded, rolling his hips harder.

Castiel’s eyes darkened, and he warningly let out a sound akin to a growl. Dean shuddered in response. Cas pushed Dean’s head to the side, and began pressing opened mouth kisses along the skin of his neck. Dean let out a low moan, and bared his neck, making it easier for Cas to access. Cas lightly bit and nipped at the skin. When he arrived at the juncture of Dean’s neck, he licked over it, then bit down, _hard_. Dean yelped, then let out a half-gasped moan. Cas sucked on the rapidly-bruising mark, then licked away the blood.

“N-never took you for the possessive sort,” Dean said with a chuckle.

“I left a mark on your soul when I first pulled you out of hell,” Cas responded casually.

Huh. That giant handprint on Dean’s back had been an angel hickie. Who would’ve thought. He was spared from responding when Cas began pawing at Dean’s clothes. “Too many clothes.” Cas panted against Dean's neck, looking animalistic, like he wanted to eat Dean alive.

“Well, if you let go of me for a sec-” Dean stopped mid-sentence. His bare, sun-kissed thighs were straddling Cas’s, and their lengths were pressed together in a way that made heat pool in his groin. Cas had mojo-ed off their clothes. Dean took a second to look appreciatively at Castiel’s cock. It was long and thick, the tip wet with pre-cum. Dean wanted to put his mouth over Cas’s cock, and suck on the top until the angel came in his mouth.

“I want to be inside you,” Cas said, voice deep and rough. And that sounded like a good idea too.

“ _Fuck, Cas_ ,” Dean gasped out.

Cas reached underneath Dean thighs’ and lifted him up with strong hands. He placed Dean next to him on the mattress. “Spread yourself out,” he ordered, getting off the bed.

Dean compiled immediately, making himself more comfortable. He shifted a pillow underneath his ass, and spread his legs and arms out. Cas arrived back at the foot of the bed, a condom in one hand, an uncapped bottle of Astroglide in the other. As his gaze felt on Dean all spread out for him, he licked his lips.

Dean pushed himself up to his elbows. “Enjoying the view?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Definitely. Maybe I should tie you up and leave you like this for a few hours, get started on some research,” Cas responded, his tone playful.

“We both know you don’t have that much self-control. Especially not for this sweet ass.” Dean brought and hand down to his ass, smacking it lightly, face split in a shit-eating grin.

“Oh, discipline?”

Cas didn’t reply, instead dipping a finger, then another, in the bottle of lube. He sent the bottle aside and moved closer. He put his left hand on Dean’s inner thigh, stroking over the area lightly. Dean let him, despite how much he wanted to shrink away. It was intimate, more intimate than he deserved. Cas pushed a finger into Dean’s hole. Dean made himself relax, and let out a huff of discomfort as the first finger breached the outer rings of his ass.

Cas paused, finger still deep in Dean’s ass. “Are you okay, Dean? Should I slow down?”

“Nah, keep going. I can take another,” Dean assured him.

Cas pressed his lips together worryingly, but added another finger alongside the other. He moved them in and out, opening up Dean’s hole. Dean could feel the fingers _in_ him, but it was a welcome intrusion. Then, Cas crooked his fingers, and hit a spot _right there_ , and Dean felt pleasure flood through him.

“Right there,” he gasped out, bringing a hand down to grip Cas’s shoulder, because if he doesn’t hold onto something he may very well float away. Cas pushed his fingers against the spot again, causing Dean’s head to fall back to hit against the bed and let out a moan. “ _Fuck_.”

All of the sudden the uncomfortableness was swept away, replaced by pleasure. Dean grinded against Cas’s fingers, trying to bring them deeper. When Cas worked a third finger inside him, he let out a surprised moan. “C-Cas, yeah, just like that - Jesus -”

“So beautiful,” Cas whispered, his breath warm against Dean’s thigh.

“M’ ready.” Dean gasped out. “Wanna feel you in me, Cas. _Please_.”

Cas drew out his fingers, wiping the lube off on the bedsheet. Dean felt a loss as they were removed, only made better by the promise that Cas’s cock would soon be in him. Cas rolled on a condom and lubed up, then lined himself up to Dean’s entrance.

When Cas penetrated him, Dean spazzed out, his hand moving down to grip Cas’s bare thigh, other hand curled in a fist, gripping the sheet. Cas drove in deeper, bottoming out, balls settled against Dean’s ass. “Oh, fuck,” Dean grunted out.

“I agree. _Fuck_.” Cas said, panting. Dean was surprised to hear the angel swear, but his dick definitely liked it.

Cas pulled back a few inches, then slammed back in. He set a brutal pace, pounding into Dean harshly. Dean moaned, letting himself be fucked into, before pushing back against each thrust. He hooked a leg around Cas’s shoulder, pulling him closer, until Cas found the right angle. Cas’s cock dragged against his prostate with nearly every thrust, caughting pleasure to spark through Dean. Cas reached a hand down to Dean’s cock, hand moving up and down the slick length, jerking Dean off to the same rhythm he’s fucking into him.

“Yeah, right there, c’mon - harder - just like that,” Dean said, his voice high-pitched, the words tumbling out of him.

Cas let out a guttural moan, driving into Dean harder. “You are… divinely gorgeous. This feels - _fuck_ \- I _want_ this - want to do this with you forever.”

The pressure against his prostate and hand on his cock sent pleasure racing through Dean, and he felt feel himself right on the edge of coming. Dean managed to ask, “You promise, Cas? Forever?” 

“I won’t ever leave you,” Castiel vowed, his blue eyes wide and promising, voice shaking.

Dean was _gone_. He came over Cas’s hand, come splattering across his own chest. Cas followed soon after, and, mid-orgasm, he was fucking stunning, a true angel.

###### 

Sam checked his watch, again. It was probably nearing the twentieth time in the last minute. About an hour ago, Dean had pulled Cas away to convince him to stop working with the angels. Neither had come back since.

Sam closed the lid of his laptop, getting to his feet. Dean and Cas could’ve been jumped by a group of angry vampires or skinwalkers. Or even Dagon herself. He made his way over to the door, and, just as he about to twist the knob, heard a harsh knock from the other side. Sam reflexively reached for the gun in his back pocket.

“It’s just us, Sam,” Dean’s voice came from the other side of the door.

Hand still on the pistol grip of his gun, Sam swung open the door. In front of him were Dean and Cas, but they looked a little different. Both their hair was disheveled, Castiel’s tie was askew, and Dean’s flannel shirt was only half-buttoned up. He’s almost think they’d run into a few monsters, if it wasn’t for the bright smiles on their faces. Or the large, suspiciously hickie-like bruise on Dean's neck. Also, they were _holding hands_. And, if it wasn’t monsters… well, Dean and Cas looked like they had a quick roll in the hay. Together.

“Hello. Dean. Cas. Dean and Cas. You took awhile. Run into any trouble?” Sam asked, suspicion leaking into his voice.

“Nope. No trouble,” Dean said, shrugging his shoulders. He sent a quick glance at Cas, and gave the angel a fleeting smile. _Bingo_.

“Huh. So, how’d it go? The talking it out, not the fucking my brother.” Sam said, directing the question at Cas.

They both looked taken aback, Dean more so. Dean’s grip on Cas’s hand tightened, and his eyes darted away, as if he was afraid of Sam’s response to his sexuality.

“Please,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes, “Did you think I wouldn’t notice? You guys sent each other lovey-dovey looks all the time. And, Dean, I’m aware that you’re bisexual. Sometimes you entered our hotel room stinking of sex, with hickies and no lipstick on your neck, and complained about your butt aching. I’m not going to treat you differently because of your sexuality, and I still accept and love you,” he finished affirmingly.

“Um. Cool.” Dean responded, looking relieved, but still like he didn’t want to be having this conversation. With his free hand, he raised Sam’s left hand and gave him a weak, as well as awkward, high five. "Uh, Cas..."

“Both went well,” Cas said, answering Sam’s earlier question, “I’m staying.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be gentle sex with top!Dean. You can see how that turned out lol.


End file.
